


To Be Wed

by slamncram (GettheSalt)



Series: Trettien [20]
Category: Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Arranged Marriage, Bottom Thor (Marvel), Fictober, Jotunn Thor (Marvel), M/M, Political Alliances, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 20:56:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16354154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GettheSalt/pseuds/slamncram
Summary: To get the Casket of Ancient Winters back, Laufey is willing to give anything. His son, Thor, is the price, a husband for the Prince of Asgard, Loki. Their wedding is a lavish affair, but it's what comes in the bedroom, after, that sells Loki on this political marriage.





	To Be Wed

**Author's Note:**

> Fictober Day 20/31. Doubles as my Bottom Thor Day fic, and therefore I don't feel guilty about absolutely blowing my own rules for word count out of the water.

What Loki knows of the Jotnar, he has always been told by those older and wiser than he, whether that be in books or by the scholars and travellers he’s met over the decades of his life. They are a rough, brutish people, war-hungry at best, berserkers at worst.

They are Asgard’s greatest ally. If the Asgardian Army could not be matched in ability and strategy, the armies of Jotunheim could not be matched in their ferocity. As a pair, the two were able to sustain peace in the realms. Loki needn’t wonder why it was that the Jotunn King gave such respect to his own father, though; in the vault of Asgard sat Jotunheim’s most prized weapon, the Casket of Ancient Winters. Asgard kept control of it, and by doing so, they kept control of Jotunheim.

Until now.

Loki hadn’t had a say in it. His father, Odin, and the Jotunn King, Laufey, had made their plans without consulting him. Without consulting Laufey’s son, either.

A son for the Casket. It was an even trade, it seemed. Thor was Laufey’s most beloved son. A runt, by Giant standards, but a fierce warrior, skilled in battle, someone who would have been the best choice to lead the Jotnar army until the sun set for the final time. Parting with him to get back a weapon that had been lost to Jotunheim for centuries was difficult, but it had, apparently, been a choice that Laufey was willing to make.

And with Thor on Asgard, Laufey could never move against it. His son was, essentially, an insurance policy.

One that would be wedded to Loki. One that would, in time, sit on the throne of Asgard at his side.

It isn’t that Loki doesn’t understand politics, he does. He has been raised from an early age to understand politics. To understand the way the realms work with each other and what it means to be the heir to the throne of Asgard. Loki understands the politics of the move just fine.

It isn’t that he didn’t enjoy the pomp and ceremony that led up to his wedding, or the attention that it put on him, the fancy robes and headpiece he got to wear. Loki has always been a creature fond of his jewels and garments, and preparing for the wedding _that way_ had been quite a lot of fun.

Most alarming, it isn’t that he disproves of the specimen that has been traded as his husband.

Thor is beautiful, in a dangerous, unknown kind of way. His skin is blue, as all Jotunns are, but soft to the touch, minus a few calluses on his hands that Loki is told are from his _warhammer_. He is not _warm_ , but he’s not cold either, and his blonde hair seems wild at first, but on closer inspection it is clean, and soft, and simply quite thick.

And he is kind. For someone who had always been called a berserker, Loki was surprised how kind, sweet and charming he was at their first meeting. He certainly didn’t bring Laufey to mind when Loki had met him, and that was a point in his favour.

No, what Loki objects to is being made a political pawn without his knowledge or say-so.

He objected to it right up to the moment they were arriving for the ceremony, to be held in the Great Hall of Asgard, the only place large and opulent enough for a wedding where one husband’s family were Giants.

There had been no point, past that.

There was no point _now_.

Now that he and Thor have been carried away from their wedding feast, brought to their rooms, with all the expectation of what is to happen weighing on the minds of both them, and their guests. They’ve been left alone, for a while now, and while Loki hasn’t stood up from where he’s sat at the end of their bed, Thor has not stopped pacing for a second.

“Would it help if I... started myself off?” Loki asks, finally, his voice low. He doesn’t expect Thor to whirl around, but he does, holding up his hands.

“No, no, that’s not... Well... What did you...”

Loki raises an eyebrow. “What did I...? You’ll need to explain further, my dear husband.”

Thor hesitates, and when it becomes clear he isn’t ready to speak, Loki sighs and stands up, undoing the ties for the first layer of his ceremony outfit. Thor doesn’t move as he walks over to the little chair in the corner of the room, shrugs off the thick velvet robe and drops it onto the seat. He still doesn’t move when Loki moves to start undoing the buttons of his trousers, but he does make a noise that has Loki looking back.

“The thing is...”

Loki waits.

“I was hoping I could have you inside me.”

Everything Loki knows of the Jotnar, he has found out from scholars and books. Clearly, none of the people he spoke to have been married to a Jotunn for political means, or else the books may have prepared Loki for this.

Thor is big. Not for a giant, but Loki knows that he could wrap him in his arms and Loki would all but disappear.He’s one of the beserker warriors all the whispers of Jotunheim talk about. Loki had fully expected to be laid out, this evening, and fucked, roughly, with no regard for what pleasure _he_ was taking from it, so long as _Thor_ was pleased. It did not matter how kind Thor had been up to this point; he was a Jotunn, and that was what Loki could only imagine was coming.

Not this.

“Is that what you truly want?”

There is no lie in Thor’s crimson eyes, no hesitation when he answers, “by the norns, _yes_.”

It’s so unexpected that Loki doesn’t quite believe it’s real, but he doesn’t hold himself in check. The moment Thor says ‘yes’, Loki is moving over to him, guiding him back towards the bed, his nimble fingers already working at removing the red cape that’s draped around his husband’s shoulders. He hadn’t known how badly _he_ would want to do things this way, had been too focused on what he assumed would be the outcome, that it’s taking him by surprise. He pushes Thor back on the mattress and climbs over him, the cape a forgotten heap on the floor.

“Then that’s what I’ll give you, my love.” Loki breathes, leaning over Thor, unlacing the ties on the front of his leather jerkin. Thor seems both amused and, immediately, aroused, and Loki adores that. His brute of a Jotunn husband, swooning because Loki wants to have him on his back, spread open on his cock. It’s almost unheard of, and Loki wouldn’t believe it if he wasn’t experiencing it. If he wasn’t pushing the leather open and running his fingers through the soft blonde curls of hair on Thor’s chest.

It’s all so much, almost too much, and for the first time since the ceremony, Loki kisses Thor. He kisses him openly, not bothering to keep his desire a secret. Thor tastes like wine and Loki chases that, tracing his lips and setting his magic to do the rest of the work for him, the laces on Thor’s leather pants sliding loose while he groans into Loki’s mouth. That’s a sound Loki wants to hear, again, and his fingers drift down, pushing the leather over Thor’s hips until his cock is free.

It’s big. Loki’s almost grateful he didn’t need to deal with that first, but he’s also eager to have that inside him, some day. For now, though, he’s far too caught up in the little whine Thor’s making.

“Eager, dear?”

Loki steps backwards, his toes on the floor, and tugs at Thor’s pants, removing them the rest of the way, until Thor is left naked in their bed, his cock flushed and hard.

“It’s all I’ve thought of for weeks.”

“Weeks?” Loki asks, working on the rest of his own clothing. He _needs_ to feel Thor’s skin against his. “Tell me.”

Thor’s smile isn’t nervous, now. He isn’t shy. He’s seen the way Loki is looking at him, and the pace at which Loki’s moving, and he knows his new husband wants him just as much. That confidence is electrifying, and Loki feels his cock jump in his trousers.

“When we first met. When I was told you would be my husband, and I saw the way you looked at me. Appraising. Measuring me up.” Thor lifted up on his elbows, looking down as Loki slid off his trousers. There’s a hunger in his eyes, and Loki hurries to grab the oils from their bedside table. “You looked at me like that tonight, just now. You’ve seen what it does to me. I want you to find me _worthy_.” Loki returns to the bed, and for someone who seemed nervous about asking Loki to fuck him, he’s all confidence, now, pulling Loki down against his skin, and openly groaning when their cocks rub together.

That’s too good, and Loki doesn’t think, for a moment, grabbing a fistful of Thor’s hair and kissing him, hard, his hips working against Thor’s, their cocks rubbing together slow and sweet, little shocks of pleasure going through his system.

If he isn’t careful, though, this is going to end far too soon.

Pulling away from Thor is hard. Not just because Thor doesn’t _want_ him to, but because Loki keeps wanting to go back. To release like that, the two of them rutting in the bed, but Thor asked him to do something.

And it’s with that in mind that Loki coats his fingers in oils, and spreads Thor’s legs apart, one of their many pillows propped under his hips, and searches out his hole. Thor’s quieted, a little, watching Loki, and Loki meets his eyes, holding his gaze while he pushes a finger inside, past the tight ring of muscle. Thor breathes out slow, and Loki hums, sliding his finger back and adding a second, pressing in just as slowly so he can watch the way Thor reacts, second by second.

Thor doesn’t have any real trouble with it, and Loki works him open slow, careful, laughing softly when Thor’s hands grip the sheets, when he rocks down on his fingers. His cock is nearly flushed purple, and there’s beads of sweat on his blue brow, and he’s _ready_ , but Loki’s enjoying the picture almost too much.

“You’re doing so well, darling. Has anyone ever had you like this?”

“Never,” Thor gasps.

Loki grins, shark-like. “Would you like me to have you now?”

The sound Thor makes is somewhere between a groan and a growl. “ _Please_.”

It’s all the encouragement Loki needs. It’s not that he hasn’t done this before, but he’s never done it quite this way. Not with a Jotunn, for certain. Not with someone Thor’s size who is so happy for it he’s tipping his head back and smiling while Loki pushes inside. Loki is so used to being in Thor’s position that it’s almost mesmerizing, watching the expression on Thor’s face go from anticipatory bliss, to hesitant satisfaction, and back, when Loki is fully seated inside him.

And Thor is warm. Hot, tight, and it’s all Loki can do to keep himself braced on shaky arms before Thor is grunting, giving him a questioning look.

Loki grins “Oh, I’m sorry, were you waiting for something?”

Thor doesn’t look nearly as amused as Loki is, but Loki obliges him by pulling out only to push back into him quickly.

“ _That_.” Thor breathes. “That’s what I’m – _oh_ , Loki...”

As much as Loki _wants_ to take his time with his new husband, and wants to watch him squirm and beg to be fucked, he has needs, too, and Thor feels _good_. There’s a sincerity to the noises he makes, the way his body reacts. Enthusiasm is hardly lacking from his end, either, because it isn’t long after Loki starts up a rhythm that Thor is spreading his legs wider, eyes nearly closed in bliss.

Thor has never had this before, never done this before, but Loki knows he’s going to do this for him again, and again. How could he not? Thor is such a receptive lover, hooking a leg around Loki’s, gasping his name, whimpering when Loki stops, only to kiss him back, hungry, his lips almost trembling under Loki’s. He’s beautiful and Loki wants to have him this way every night.

It isn’t long before Thor is desperate. His big hands are on Loki’s ass, pulling him in, and his cock is trapped between them, leaking, drawing dark lines on his blue belly. As much as Loki would love to draw this out, to torture him, he can’t, and he gives Thor what he needs.

“That’s it... just – _mm_ – just give in, Thor. Let it take you.” Loki knows his murmurings are half-wild themselves. If Thor is nearly gone, Loki isn’t far behind him. “Come, my love.”

When Thor comes, he is loud. His red eyes roll back in pleasure, his back arches, and Loki struggles to keep thrusting into him before Thor is tight, so tight around him, and his hands are gripping in the plush new bedcovers, pulling at them, mouth open in a silent plea before everything comes rushing back. Thor comes, spurting a hot, pearly white mess on himself, and he groans so loudly Loki is _sure_ their wedding guests, half a palace away, will hear the bliss.

Good.

It’s such a gorgeous sight, and Loki barely manages not to lose himself to it, but he can’t. He needs to see Thor to the end of his orgasm, and he isn’t disappointed, because the moment Thor stops being caught in his own bliss, he’s reaching for Loki, and repeating his words.

“Come, my love.”

And Loki does. He does with a broken little cry, hips stuttering, all but collapsing on Thor while he is still trapped in the pleasures of his body.

The most delicious part of it is the sound Thor makes when Loki fills him. A satisfied little moan, like it’s all he’s been wanting.

Afterwards, they lay against each other, messy from spend and sweat, and Loki couldn’t care less.

This was a political marriage, but with his cheek against Thor’s chest, listening to his slowing heartbeat, he cannot deny that there is something here. Some kind of connection.

“Loki?” Thor asks, breaking the long silence, and Loki lifts his head, smiling at him.

“Yes?”

“Are you tired?”

Loki knows his grin is wicked. He can see it in his reflection in Thor’s eyes.

“Not at all. Why don’t you and I take a little bath. Clean up some...” Loki trails his finger down Thor’s stomach, feeling his hunger growing again. “I would like to have you from behind, next.”

Thor’s agreement is in the form of an eager kiss, rolling Loki on his back before they get lost in it for a little while, the mess on their skin forgotten for the moment.

Loki doesn’t mind.

It is their wedding night, after all.


End file.
